


Sunrise, Sunset

by NajikaSun



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Asgore is mentioned - Freeform, Asriel is mentioned - Freeform, Chara is mentioned, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Frisk is mentioned, One Shot, POV Toriel, Short One Shot, Soriel, and now they're living together, lots of characters are mentioned but they're not actually in the fic, no one ever writes from toriel's point of view so I gave it a shot, sans and toriel adopted frisk, sans/toriel - Freeform, the domestic au everyone wanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 04:24:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10071368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NajikaSun/pseuds/NajikaSun
Summary: Toriel had never exactly understood the appeal of sleep.Short Soriel one-shot for a friend.  It's all fluff from Tori's point of view.





	

Toriel had never exactly understood the appeal of sleep.

Every night, long ago while she was still living in the Underground, she tucked in the children, be it Chara, Asriel, or both, and stood right by their bedsides, running her large paw over her beloved children's foreheads until sleep crept up on them and their eyes gently shut. Even then, she would refrain from leaving the room until making absolutely sure both of the sneaky little things were going to stay asleep before joining Asgore back in their shared bedroom.

And from there, she would wait until he too was asleep, rubbing a thumb over the back of his even larger paw and waiting for his breaths to slow. It was a nightly ritual of sorts, and it was a comforting solution to her seemingly insatiable motherly desires. And in truth, it was nice back then. That is, until she ran outside to catch a last glimpse of what once was Asriel, Chara’s lifeless body in his arms, their dust-coated form the only thing left before Asriel's mangled body could even hit the ground. It all happened so fast, and time stopped for her then and there for a very long time.

Of course, it picked up again some time later, with some steady breaths, a divorce, intense isolation, lots of grieving, a touch of patience, a series of bad knock-knock jokes, and a eventually, a patched-up soul, capable of making her smile again.

When Frisk fell into the Underground, she had no idea what big wonders such a small child would hold for the future of monsterkind and humanity alike. Though, after all too brief a meeting and many (painfully) ignored phone calls, she found herself opening her door and finally emerging once again to the sight and the sensation of the sunset, bright and brilliant and warming to the very core. The air felt fresh, the sky was so expansive and wide, and everything was how it used to be, so long ago, sending her back many more years still.

Stars, she was old. But she was healing, and that was what mattered.

Fast forward another few months. The Surface had treated monsters well, with any scuffles remaining temporary, being quickly resolved and put behind them. They had places to stay now (Toriel had forgotten how much humans cherished precious metals, and Gold was in abundant supply) and monsters stuck together as a tightly knit community, staying close fostering friendships formed by the events of the Underground's seventh child. And it was a beautiful thing, to be able to watch the sunrise again each morning, and to be able to tuck in Frisk the same way she did Chara and Asriel. Though it did bring tears to her eyes on occasion, they were not out of grief, but of nostalgic compassion.

Then there was the fact that Sans had asked if he could stay with her.

There was obviously history behind their relationship, everyone knew that from the moment Sans and Toriel met, but Toriel never thought anything of it due to the lax nature of it all. Jokes told behind closed doors were now told face-to-face, idiotic (but hysterical) puns exchanged on the daily, whenever comedic inspiration hit either of them. She felt quite proud of herself for some of the plays on words she came up with on her own, without any of Sans’ help whatsoever, and judging by his reactions, it tickled him as well. And about a month of this passed by fantastically, until he came to her door without a joke, unprepared and a little jittery, and asked if he could “bum around” with her for a while. To get out of his brother’s hair, he reasoned, obviously expecting immediate interrogation while aggressively avoiding eye contact and shrugging his shoulders. When she laughed, he smiled too.

For how could she refuse such a bluntly honest request from a dear friend?

Another month went by and life got adjusted to fit the three of them in the little household. Sans had his own room now (Toriel kept it clean), he would contribute when he felt up to it, and he only occasionally went out to visit Grillby when night fell. Frisk had been enrolled in school (finally) and every school night without fail, Sans would help them out with any homework in science or mathematics. Toriel found the effort he poured into it endearing, and tended to eavesdrop when they would inevitably diverge from their homework situation and have a full-blown tangent about the stars and the night sky, Frisk leaning forward with intense curiosity. Sans always became so wonderfully animated; his eyes lit up and his tiny hands flew with grand gestures of constellations or planets that existed somewhere in the sky, farther away from here than could be comprehended by man or monster alike.

It was this enthusiasm, this break in his usual laid-back personality, that made Toriel realize that maybe, just maybe, she felt the smallest little smidgen of attraction.

And as time went on, that smidgen grew into a touch, and a tad, and a pinch, and so on and so forth, until her soul felt like an overfilled mixing bowl, brimming with six to eight heaping cupfuls of absolute sugary-sweet infatuation. And judging by Sans’ streak of zero days without stuttering and messing up a punchline, she wondered if perhaps he felt something for her as well.

It came as such a pleasant surprise when Sans was the one to actually ask her on a date. His cheeks were lit up a faint blue, his smile looking more genuine today and his pupils a little brighter than usual. She nodded with a quirky grin and wide eyes once the situation settled in. The date went fantastically, a picnic in the park as the sun started to set, and they both enjoyed it wholeheartedly, all dumb giggles and shared grins. During the walk home, they held hands for the first time, and both souls were absolutely fluttering in their chests. Toriel felt at least five thousand years younger. Sans felt at least five thousand pounds lighter.

It wasn’t until after another few dates that they worked up to a kiss, and even then, they found it difficult with Sans’ lack of lips in the first place, but they made do. Eskimo kisses and nose-nuzzling were both just as nice. That, and it was fantastic to watch Sans’ face light up cyan upon kissing him – he’d always pull his hood up to retreat into an even smaller little ball, his bright pupils dilating at the gesture. He was hopeless, but then again, so was she.

Fast forward another two months, to the present day.

Toriel still didn’t understand sleep, and would still spend a very long while tucking Frisk into bed and making sure they were asleep before coming back down the hallway, and peeking quietly into Sans’ room to make sure he was asleep as well, the old habit never quite disappearing. To her surprise, though, he blinked himself awake at the slight intrusion, and lazily met Toriel’s gaze, rolling onto his side. He offered a little smile, and Toriel found herself walking towards him, kneeling next to his low bedside and smiling warmly down at him with everything she had.

She reached out a hand and placed it on Sans’ right cheekbone, and he returned the gesture, reaching upwards and cupping her cheek before moving to stroke the fur on her ear. It was softest there, he’d proclaimed at one point, and they were one of his many favorite parts of her.

There they sat in silence for quite a while, maybe a half hour of simply stroking cheeks and slow breathing, the quiet around them comforting and warm. Sans’ eyelids had begun to fall shut just a little bit, his pupils beginning to dim in sleep-dusted contentedness. He withdrew his hand, and placed it over Toriel’s, shutting his eyes and nestling against it.

“knock knock.”

She felt the vibration of his voice in her palm as he spoke, soft and deep. Of course it was a joke at a time like this. She smiled.

“Who is there?”

“olive.”

She had heard this one before, and her smile softened as she brushed her thumb across his face as gently as she could manage. He hummed quietly in response, before opening his eyes and glancing back up at her again in as close to a pout as one could manage, sans flesh. (Hee hee.)

“c’mon, don’t leave me hangin’…”

She snickered, and humored him.

“Olive who?”

He shut his eyes again, any traces of stress gone from his body and soul in that one little moment as he exhaled, his head resting further in her palm. The answer came in a tone Toriel had never heard before from him. It was warm, it was confident, and it was happy.

“i love you.”

She brightened right up, her cheeks rosy underneath her fur, and she leaned down to give his cheek as gentle a kiss as she would a baby.

“I love you too, sleepybones.”

His smile quirked up at that, his soul glowing faintly blue from behind his chest and under the sheets. And Toriel stayed there by his bedside as his body relaxed, his hand fell from atop Toriel’s, and his head lolled to the side in peaceful sleep.

She stayed right there until the sun rose again the next morning, and every few moments she stayed there, she glanced out the window and smiled.


End file.
